Mitt Romney, Forgotten Man

It was a rainy Sunday night in Tampa, on the eve of convention week, and Herman Cain was telling a cheering crowd that he didn’t mind being left out. He said, “Some of the questions that I get are, first, ‘Are you disappointed that you’re not speaking at the R.N.C. convention?’ And my answer is, ‘No, I’m not. You see, it’s not about me—it’s about the grandkids!’”

This was the Unity Rally 2012, sponsored by TheTeaParty.net; it was a rally against Obama, naturally, and also a rally against disappointment. For Cain, the disappointment was personal: for a few surprising weeks last year, he was the hottest national politician in America, and the polls indicated that he was a front-runner for the Presidency, even though the pundits disagreed. He remains one of the G.O.P.’s most entertaining speakers, cheerfully framing the implosion of his candidacy as a rhetorical asset. He said that he was free to talk about the dire state of the economy because he didn’t have to watch his words. “I ain’t runnin’ for nothin’!” he said.

Cain was in a tricky position: he had to reaffirm his own rebellious identity while also celebrating the rather unrebellious man who happens to be his party’s Presidential nominee this year. And so, like many of the speakers, he saved his kindest words for Paul Ryan, the Vice-Presidential nominee, who has, he said, “energized the ticket.” For Cain, Ryan’s selection reflected well on the guy who selected him: “He didn’t make a safe choice—he made a bold choice,” Cain said, and the cheering drowned him out.

Michelle Bachmann was the night’s other big name: another disappointed Presidential contender, transformed, more or less convincingly, into an enthusiastic supporter of the Republican ticket. “You have succeeded wildly—take a victory lap,” she said. In her view, it was the enthusiasm of Tea Party groups that inspired the Republican nominee to declare his intention to repeal Obamacare on the first day of his Presidency.

In this room, where both Gadsden and American flags were flying, no one had a more difficult job than Jason Chaffetz, a congressman from Utah, who spoke on behalf of the Republican ticket; unlike many of the people in the hall, he hadn’t been disappointed by the result of the Republican primary. He was on safe ground, though, so long as he talked about the current President. “Number one, we’ve got to fire Barack Obama,” he said, and the crowd cheered him on. He praised Bachmann and, more reservedly, Ron Paul. (“There’s a lot to learn from Ron Paul.”) When it came time to praise the candidate he actually supports, he offered his personal testimony, as a Utahan. “He saved the Olympics,” Chaffetz said. “You don’t understand how bad it was—but if you lived in Utah, you did.”

Chaffetz’s argument for his candidate was twofold: “I believe he’s the right person at the right time,” he said. Also, and (in this room) more important: “I want to defeat Barack Obama.” Near the end of his speech, Chaffetz delivered one of the most resonant lines of the night. “At some point,” he said, “I do hope that Paul Ryan also becomes a President of the United States of America.” From this perspective, voting Republican in the fall might be merely the first step in a long-term plan, culminating with the election, in 2020, of President Ryan.

The rally was held in a church, east of the city; there was a convoy of food trucks in the parking lot, and some vendors in the lobby. One of them was the painter Jon McNaughton, whose portfolio includes one of the defining images of the anti-Obama movement: a memorable painting of the President holding a copy of the Constitution, aflame. Another table had ten-dollar T-shirts emblazoned with the names of Ryan and his running mate. As it turned out, the man selling them was not a true believer. “I supported Santorum in the primary,” he said. “But I back the man now.” He mentioned the man’s name, but he didn’t seem eager to walk around with it emblazoned on his chest.